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Nando's

Diet Soda

Mustang Sally <3
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Yeah I know, Soda is making another food thread.

Anyone a fan?

I've always found something to complain about at the restaurants, but I picked up a bottle of the peri-peri sauce from Lidl yesterday (99p, mate) and just had a bit on some battered chicken. It were right good.
 
I'm not a 14 year old girl, a footballer or a roid rager so no I don't eat at Nando's.
 
I'm not a 14 year old girl, a footballer or a roid rager so no I don't eat at Nando's.

Oh, the typecasting. But I shouldn't whinge, since I'm all of the above anyway.

I'm going to try the peri-peri sauce on my scrambled eggs tomorrow morning. Reports will be posted in the breakfast thread. Deal with it.
 
Tastycles trying to eat the double burger extra hot inside the 2 minutes before my lesson started was the closest thing I've ever had to a Man vs Food experience.
 
Last time I went to a Nando's in Manchester I went with an old uni mate from London (sorry Tasty and Sam) who will complain about absolutely anything.

Using the old "I've been coming here for years and this is the worse it's ever been" spiel, he managed to score our table 20 free chicken wings because complained to the manager that he saw two waitresses hugging whilst our food was on the pass.

Totally fucking humiliating. But, on the other hand, 20 free chicken wings.

I feel the need to quote a passage the Alan Partridge autobiography, which encapsulates what a pain in the arse it is to actually order at a Nando's.

I enjoy the taste of chicken and chips enormously, and am only slightly put off by Nando's bewildering ordering system in which customers must pay for their food at the counter, set the table themselves and then wait for the waiter to bring the meal over. Interestingly, Glen and I have developed an unspoken but quietly effective NES - Nando's Efficiency System - in which we ensure that not a sexond is wasted. We secure a table and then, with coats draped over the backs of our chairs, we separate. My role is to grab a menu and secure a place in the queue. From there, I loudly read the food options so that Glen can hear. He, meanwhile, is scurrying to the far side of the restaurant to grab cutlery, napkins and condiments, but all the while he is listening to me and shouting back his order. I place it and pay. We usually end up back at the table at roughly the same time and then enjoy our chicken dinners, while chuckling at the many people who are still waiting for theirs despite having arrived way before us.

Of course, things take on a different hue if you dine solo. Last time I went to a Nando's I was Glen-less. I placed my order but forgot about the cutlery. My food arrived and I had neither knife, fork or spoon. Admittedly, in a chicken-and-chips scenario the spoon is less important, but I could sure have done with a knife and fork - the former to cut with, the latter to maintain carcass stability.

Cursing the absence of my partner-in-chicken I went over to get the required eating tools, walking as fast as I could without breaking into a run. Just my luck - they were awaiting a refill on both the knives and the forks! Spoons, on the other hand? Dozens of them. I had no choice. With a lateral shake of the head and a vertical raise of the eyebrow, I return to my table. I've made the effort to find cutlery, I'm darn well going to use it. And I have to say it worked out okay. I shovelled the chips into my mouth as if I was eating pudding, and as for the chicken - it was just a question of trying to drag the meat off the bone by using the spoon as a paw.
 
I didn't know that you have to get cutlery yourself. I've been twice and the waiter brought it over both times. I live in London now, so I'm just going to assume that's what soft southerners do.
 

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